A Journey To Find Home
by Vahnya
Summary: Caladhiel has lived in self-imposed exile for nearly 3000 years and currently resides in Bree disguised as a human girl called Neora. She carries a great legacy that she wills to keep secret at all cost. When she is hauled out of seclusion on a quest along with Aragorn and Haldir, the secret becomes increasingly difficult to keep from the sharp Silvan Elf. Haldir/OC.
1. Pilot

**The main character is an Original Character by me, but everything else belongs to the legend of Tolkien.**

 **This story begins in TA 2016, about three years before the start of The Fellowship of the Ring, but I do have a detailed history of my character, so there may be spin-off stories about her past later on. This is an eventual Haldir/OC romance, and it alters between the POV of Caladhiel and Haldir.**

 **Summary:**

 _Caladhiel has lived in self-imposed exile for nearly 3000 years and currently resides in Bree disguised as a human girl called Neora. She carries a great legacy that she wills to keep secret at all cost. When she is hauled out of seclusion on a quest along with Aragorn and Haldir, the secret will be difficult to keep from the sharp Silvan Elf._

* * *

That night was a particularly busy night, and The Prancing Pony in the town of Bree was bustling with people, both men and hobbits, but Neora had no trouble making her way through the crowd. She glided between the unsteady forms of drunken men with effortless grace, paying no mind to the leeching gazes and uncouth hollers some of them threw at her, though she was very much aware of it. However, so long as no one touched her, she could not care less.

Making her way to the bar with a tray full of empty cups, she was waved over by the Tom, the barman.

"Neora, that Ranger is here, at his usual table," he glanced over at a table in the corner nervously. "Will you take care of his order?"

Neora had to smile at his obvious unease. Men of Bree were all so wary of the Rangers, and this one in particular, whose name they knew only as Strider. But Neora knew him as a kind, wise man, and counted him as one of her very few friends.

"Certainly, Tom," she replied with a kind smile. He thanked her with great relief upon his face.

As she wove through the crowd, nearing the table in the corner, she was surprised to see that the Ranger was not alone, as he usually was. Joined him at the table was an elf. One of the Galadhrim of Lothlórien, if she was not mistaken by his distinguishable grey attire and his golden locks.

She stopped dead for a moment, suddenly thrown off guard. Would the elf recognize her as one of his kin? She always made certain that her elven ears were hidden underneath her hair, and therefore most of the race of Men only perceived her as an especially beautiful woman. None of them had ever questioned her race, besides the Ranger, Aragorn, of course, but he had sworn to keep her secret.

But an elf, with his keen eyes and wise mind, would surely observe the discrepancies which men could not. She bit her lip worriedly, a nervous habit she had picked up while she dwelled along Men. It was rather unbecoming for an elf, but she had made it her mission to adapt to their behavior in order to avoid any suspicion.

 _Or worse yet_ , she thought to herself, as another troubling thought struck her. _Will he recognize my identity?_

She did not think she had ever encountered this elf before in her life, but she could not be certain. The time when she had lived amongst her kin was so long ago; the specifics of that time had somewhat faded from her memory.

She mentally shook her head to rid herself of her disarray of thoughts. There was no use in such thinking. Indeed, there was only one way to find out. Straightening her apron and plastering her usual friendly smile, she approached the table determinedly.

"Aragorn," she greeted the Ranger warmly as she came to a stop by their table. "It is good to see you again, my friend."

"Neora," he responded in kind with a respectful bow of his head. "I am glad to see you as well."

She was very aware of the sharp, curious gaze of the elf to her right, and chose to address Aragorn only, hoping to give the elf as limited a view of her as possible.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she offered pleasantly.

"Nothing to drink, I think," Aragorn replied, glancing over to his companion questioningly, and Neora allowed herself a small glance herself to regard the elf. He wore a look of mild disdain on his face as he gave a small shake of his head in reply. He seemed to disagree with his surroundings very much, but remained coolly collected nonetheless, as most elves would.

"No drinks then," Aragorn continued. "But something to eat would be very welcome."

"Of course," she replied willingly. "I will return shortly."

Aragorn nodded and offered a small smile of gratitude.

She felt a heavy gaze upon her as she walked away from the table, but it was not the usual lusting gaze of one of the men that she had grown so used to. It was a piercing, speculating stare coming from the elf in the corner, and she knew she had not escaped his keen eye after all.

She returned with the food, determined to be as quick as possible, not wanting to feed the curiosity of the elf any further.

"Will you not join us for a moment?" Aragorn inquired when she turned to leave so suddenly.

She grimaced slightly. Usually, she would like nothing more. She was very happy any time her friend came to the village. A conversation with a friend was always welcomed. But this time she would not take the chance. She knew Aragorn would keep her secret, for they had much in common, and he understood her desire to stay hidden, but she knew she could not count upon the elf not to sate his curiosity. No, she would not sit down this time.

"I am afraid I cannot." Her face was sincerely apologetic as she turned back around. "We are so very busy tonight."

There. It was not a lie. The inn was truly packed.

"Very well," Aragorn smiled. "Perhaps later."

Neora smiled in return. "Perhaps," she said, and quickly hurried away to perform her duties, which were quickly piling up with the hectic crowd that had gathered to drink that evening.

She endeavored to keep herself busy, and as far from the table in the corner as possible, but whilst she worked diligently, she could not help but let her mind drift to the heavy presence of the Silvan-elf in the corner. She wondered what he was doing there, so far from his home. Elves rarely travelled so far west into the old realm of Eriador, unless they were headed for the Grey Havens, but that was highly unlikely. Briefly, she entertained the thought that perhaps he was looking for her. That somehow, somebody had learned her identity and her location, and spread it into Middle Earth, where it had eventually found its way to Lothlórien. There was no doubt in her heart that Lady Galadriel would wish to find her if such a story should circulate.

She mentally shook her head. What a ridiculous notion. Only a select few people knew of her secret, and they would never betray her, she was certain of that.

No, it was more likely that they were traveling to or from Imladris. After all, that was Aragorn's home, The House of Elrond, and the home of the Noldor elves. The Galadhrim often visited Rivendell, as the House of Elrond shared kinship with the Galadhrim in the form of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn's daughter, Celebrían, who was married to Elrond.

 _Yes,_ she concluded to herself. _That must be it._ Still, she could not entirely shake off the unease, as she kept feeling the sharp gaze of the elf following her around the room every so often, and she secretly hoped that their stay in the village would not be too long.

\- - - **Haldir POV** \- - -

Haldir could barely restrain the look of disgust upon his face as he entered the inn of The Prancing Pony in the village Bree. The room was filled to the brim with Men in various states of inebriation, and their behavior in said state was little short of barbaric. The smell of ale and sweat was tangible, and he wrinkled his nose involuntarily.

Aragorn clasped his shoulder briefly in silent support, as if knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"Come," Aragorn said. "Let us find a quiet table."

Haldir nodded curtly and followed his friend through the room. He gritted his teeth in annoyance as people stumbled in front of him and bumped into him from every angle. The savage conduct of Men would never seize to take him by surprise.

Finally, they were sat at a table in a dark corner, which offered some blissful distance from the roaring of the crowd. Aragorn signaled to the man at the bar, whose gaze had followed them anxiously from the moment they entered, whilst Haldir remained distracted by two rowdy men who clashed together in a wrestle, obviously the result of some mindless feud. A bar-maiden navigated around them quite effortlessly, smoothly dodging one of the fists that came too close to her face, and approached the table, seemingly unfazed by their brutism.

"Aragorn," she greeted his friend cordially, as if they were old friends, and that drew his attention at last from the fight across the room, as he regarded the maiden curiously.

His sharp eyes widened a fraction as he regarded her appearance. She was uncommonly lovely for a maiden of Men, he admitted grudgingly to himself. Her hair was long, ending in gentle curls at her lower back, and the shine of her golden hair was like glimmering sun rays in the candlelit room. She was taller than most maidens, and her piercing set of blue eyes held wisdom and kindness beyond her kin.

These traits, along with her remarkably fair skin, made Haldir narrow his eyes in speculation. If the thought of an elven-maiden dwelling amongst the race of Men had not been so ridiculous, so outrageous, he might have been tempted to entertain the idea that she may have been one of his own kin.

He mentally shook his head, wondering if perhaps all the ale in the air had led his wits astray, as they clearly had all the men in room. He barely refrained from wrinkling his nose again, as he vaguely recognized Aragorn asking him whether he wanted anything to drink. He shook his head curtly. Nothing would ever tempt him to taste the treacherous drink that could entice such behavior.

Once Aragorn had made the order, the girl left the table swiftly, looking as if she was in a great hurry to remove herself from their presence, and he wondered at her odd behavior, and indeed, her even more peculiar appearance, as he gazed after her.

She later returned with a plate of bread and cheese, and smoothly declined Aragorn's invitation to sit down, under the pretense of having too much work to do, and as promptly as she had returned, she was gone again.

Though he forced himself to be attentive to the conversation with Aragorn, he could not help but keep a discreet eye on the maiden who had roused such interest in him. He did not know why, but he had a strange feeling about her. Something was definitely amiss. He was half inclined to ask Aragorn about her, as he seemed to be acquainted with her, but he did not want his friend to read too much interest into it.

Later however, when Aragorn excused himself for a moment, he allowed his eyes to truly seek out her position in the room, his curiosity getting the better of him. Her fiery hair would have been easy enough to pinpoint in the room, but the subtle wave of heads turning after her with ogling eyes was even more palpable.

Everywhere she turned, some inebriated man would make a pass at her, sometimes just a slurry speech of crude propositions, whilst some even took the liberty of placing their hands on her. Such disrespectful demeanor had Haldir's fists clenched tightly in outrage, and more than once he nearly leapt out of his seat to intervene, but there was never any airs of distress around her. Indeed, she seemed quite at ease.

She dismissed their verbal advances with a small roll of her eyes and a couple of well aimed reproaches that were severe enough to demand respect, but playful enough not to cause a stir. And anyone who dared lay hands on her, she quickly twisted into a gentle, but firm grip, then whispered something in their ears which he could not comprehend, but seemed to have the desired effect, as they all looked rather pale afterwards.

Clearly, this maiden was not in need of saving, and this only made him more intrigued. Who was she?

* * *

 **This is just a short "pilot" chapter, but please let me know what you think! I'd love to know if anyone is interested in reading this story.**


	2. Chapter 1 - Bree

**Wow, I am so sorry! It's literally been forever. A whole year. I'm the sort of person who has 129387439 projects going on at once, and I never finish any of them. Can anyone relate? Anyway. I'm so encouraged and pleased by all the feedback I've gotten on this story! I'd never dreamed of such response. Thank you for that! I will try my best, from now on, to continue this story with regular updates. Fingers crossed.**

Later that evening, the crowd was thinning out, as drunken men stumbled home to their beds. Some went alone, some accompanied by one of the serving maids. Neora could not find it within herself to judge the girls for going home with strange man every other night, even though it was not in the nature of the _Eldar._ Once elves mated, they mated for life. But she did look upon their actions with something akin to sadness. There was something that struck her as very sorrowful about constantly seeking comfort and solace in a stranger whom you might never see again. Many a man had tried to tempt Neora to join them in their bedchamber, but she would always decline them, firmly, but kindly.

She had all but finished her duties, and nearly forgotten all about her friend and the elf residing in the corner. They made no more requests throughout the night, so she had left them to their conversation. Soon she had cleared all the tables, finished all the washing and cleaning and put most everything back in its proper place.

Tom had left her in charge and gone to bed, as he so often did, trusting her to keep watch during the night, when there were so few guests left. The _Eldar_ were not as dependent upon sleep as Man-kind, she could go several days without rest. Of course, nobody knew that. She made out to go to bed in the morning and sleep til the afternoon, but more often than not she would spend this time out in the forest. It could quickly become somewhat stifling for an elf to spend so much time indoors, especially amongst men whose nature was so different from theirs.

After setting all the chairs upon the tables, all that was really left for her to do was wait for the remaining customers to take their leave. And the only remaining customers, were Aragorn and his Silvan friend. She found, reluctantly, that she had no good reason to avoid them any longer.

Walking over to their table, she made a point to clear her throat, as humans so often did to gain someone's attention. There really was no need for it, she knew that the elf had felt her coming from the moment she decided to approach. The senses of the elves were keen and sharp.

"Strider, is there anything else I can get you?" She folded her arms politely in front of her skirt. Maidens had nervous habits as such, she had learned.

Aragorn looked up and around the room, as if to ensure that they were the only ones left.

"Will you not take a seat, Neora?" He asked and moved over to make room for her on the bench. "I'm sorry to have kept you, but we were most anxious to talk to you in private."

Neora's eyes flickered over to the elf, who looked as though he would have liked nothing but to avoid talking to her at all costs, and briefly she wondered why that was. Her curiosity was peaked however, and in truth she had no good reason to decline the offer, so she conceded with a small smile. "Very well." Gathering her skirts, she took her place next to Aragorn.

He turned to her with a grave expression on his face, casually smoking his pipe. "Tell me, Neora, have you encountered the Grey Pilgrim as of late?"

Neora's brows drew together in surprise. "Gandalf?"

He nodded.

She let her mind drift off to the last time she had seen the wizard. They had parted ways at Rivendell after the Quest for Erebor and the fall of Thorin Oakenshield, as Neora escorted Bilbo Baggins back to The Shire and The Grey Wizard went off in search of any news, any developments he could obtain regarding the resurgence of The Enemy. It was with grievous hearts and heavy minds that they had parted ways. She knew the wizard had been very troubled by the growing darkness they had discovered in Dol Guldur. All evidence pointed to the return of evil in Middle Earth.

"I'm afraid I have not laid eyes upon _Mithrandir_ since…" Neora stopped abruptly, eyes flickering over to the elf in unease. There was little she could say without revealing too much about herself. Too late however, she realised from the surprised flicker in his eyes that she had already given herself away by the use of Gandalf's elven name.

Aragorn seemed to sense her consternation as he reached out to grasp her hand in a comforting gesture. "You need not worry, Neora. Haldir is a friend."

Neora regarded the elf hesitantly for a moment. There was a certain aura of haughtiness over him that she did not care for, but she could find no trace of malice or treachery in his gaze as he stared back at her with a stony expression. However, she trusted Aragorn with her life. Knowing he would never betray her or lead her astray, she eventually sighed in defeat. "Of course," she said inclining her head to the elf with a polite smile.

She then turned back to Aragorn to answer his question. "Last I saw Gandalf the Grey, we parted ways at Imladris after…" She turned away for a moment, sorrow colouring her features. "… after Erebor."

Aragorn nodded, understanding her grief. He too had suffered his fair share of loss in his lifetime, and was of a likeminded compassion. The air around them turned heavy with gloom and Neora felt that familiar ache within her chest which threatened to overwhelm her whenever she thought of all the pointless death she had seen. Needing to take her mind elsewhere, she decided to lighten the mood.

"To tell you the truth, my friend," she turned to Aragorn with a wry smile. "I am rather relieved I have not laid eyes upon _Mithrandir_ these past seven decades. Whenever I encounter him, he always seems to bring some sort of trouble for me."

Aragorn laughed heartily at that, amusement shining in his eyes. "I believe you are not alone in that sentiment." He shook his head, a look of fondness passing over his features. Gandalf was indeed a dear friend to the both of them, for better or worse.

Neora soon turned solemn again as she thought of the quest the wizard had been on the last time she saw him. "What tidings bring you, Aragorn?" She asked him solemnly. "From Gandalf the Grey?"

"He is… troubled." Aragorn replied slowly. "This ring… You were there were you not? When the hobbit found the ring?"

Her mind flashed back to the time they travelled under the Misty Mountains, when they had been attacked by Goblins and the hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, had disappeared from the company. When he joined them once more, before they were attacked by Azog and his warg hybrids, Neora had sensed that something had changed within the hobbit, but she had no time to ponder upon it at the time. Later, when they travelled through the sick forest of Mirkwood, she had sensed some of the same darkness lingering upon the hobbit as she felt dwelling over the forest.

She suppressed a shiver when she thought about the ring the hobbit carried with him the rest of the journey and on the road back home. For all she knew, the ring still dwelled with the hobbit, hopefully safely tucked away somewhere in The Shire, where none would think to look for it. She did not know exactly what ring it was, but there was something distinctly dark about it that did not sit right with her.

"I was not there with him, no," she replied. "Bilbo was by himself in the caves when he encountered this ring and the creature Gollum." It was only later that she learned of the circumstances which lead to the hobbit finding this ring, in part from Bilbo himself, and in part from Gandalf. "But Bilbo was quickly changed by this uncovering, that I could sense. And _Mithrandir_ was instantly troubled by the discovery, though there was little time to dwell upon it."

Aragorn nodded. "I believe he is more troubled now than ever," he said. "Gandalf has set myself and Haldir upon a new quest." He stared out into the empty room, looking, as he often did, as if he had the weight of all of _Arda_ on his shoulders.

Neora's head snapped up. "A quest you say?" This was interesting news to her. She had been concerned for some time, and shamed, for not taking more of an active part in helping Gandalf after the quest. If The Enemy had indeed returned, it would affect all of Middle Earth. None would be spared from the upcoming conflict, and she felt it was her duty to do what she could to fight back. But she had been so tired, so weary from the journey and the battle, that she had yearned for nothing more than to retreat to the peaceful lands of the west to recover her strength and spirits.

"Aye," Aragorn replied. "To find Gollum and learn what the creature knows about this ring."

She frowned at that. Finding Gollum? "It will not be an easy task. To find him alone will be a great challenge, for the creature Gollum is slippery and treacherous, and knows his way around the lands like no other."

Neora was startled to hear the Elf raising his voice to join the conversation. Indeed, she had half forgotten he was even present at that point. "You have met the creature?"

She blinked up at him, watching him lean forward with a blend of curiosity and doubt in his eyes. Again she felt wary, wondering just how much she could disclose to the observant elf. "I have." she replied simply.

Her attention was drawn back to Aragorn. "Then I believe you have us at an advantage," he said, and the corner of his mouth quirked up, as he regarded her meaningfully.

She narrowed her eyes at the new twinkle in his eyes, then sighed, already guessing where the conversation was headed. "And let me venture a guess…" she drawled out in a sarcastic tone that was highly uncharacteristic of elves. Probably, she had dwelled too long amongst men and hobbits. "You have travelled the long way to Bree in the hopes of persuading me to join you."

Aragorn's smile grew in amusement as he inclined his head. "You are very wise, my friend."

Neora huffed out a long breath. " _Mithrandir'_ s idea, no doubt."

"Naturally," Aragorn replied simply, taking a long sip of his pipe.

Neora leaned back against the wall, feeling suddenly very tired. "May I have some time to consider?"

"Of course."

She nodded, satisfied. "Is that all you wished to speak to me of?"

Aragorn glanced over at his friend, the elf, who gave a half shrug, having nothing else to add. Then he turned back to Neora with a small nod. "That is all, for now."

"Very well," she said, standing up and smoothing down her skirts. "Then I believe I shall retire. Will you require rooms for the night?" Her gaze flickered between the two of them, and she did not miss the fleeting look of dismay upon the elf's face at the thought.

Aragorn shook his head, a small smile of bemusement at his friend's reluctance. "No, we will make camp outside the village."

"Then I will see you in the morning."

The man and the elf too rose from the table, bidding her a good night as they approached the door. As the door closed behind them, Neora was left standing staring after them for a good couple of minutes, deep in thought. They had given her much to consider, and she knew she would find little sleep that night.


	3. Chapter 2 - Haldir's Conundrum

The moment they stepped out of the inn, Haldir's tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, relieved to be free of the stifling air inside. Although the maiden, Neora, apparently, had done a commendable job of cleaning and clearing the space after the rambunctious guests had left for the night, there was still a lingering odour of sweat and intoxication in the air that he felt sure would never really fade.

He scrunched up his face as they made their way down the narrow street. Truth be told, the air was only marginally better outside. The smell of mud and dung filled his nostrils and he pressed his lips together in annoyance as he glanced down and noted that his boots were now coated with the thick slippery substance they were treading through. Although he was always keen to travel and visit new places, Haldir had to admit that he often found the more densely populated areas of Man Kind to be less agreeable to him.

They collected their horses from the stables provided for travellers, both agreeing that they felt more comfortable keeping the animals close to them than leaving them to fend for themselves in the village over night. Leading the steeds down towards the gates, they were soon clear of the village and gratefully stepped onto the gravel path outside the entrance.

Aragorn led them down the path towards the east, obviously knowing where he was heading, and Haldir trusted him well enough to follow willingly. Soon he branched off the path and into the forest. They did not trek too far before they came to a small clearing in the woods, the perfect place to make camp. Wasting no time in setting up a fire and spreading out their cots, they were soon ready for a good night's sleep.

Haldir lay upon the soft ground of the forest floor staring up at the dark sky that was barely visible through the tall trees around them. He could make out but a few twinkling stars, even with his own sharp gaze, but seeing them always served to offer him comfort. Soon enough, he heard the deep breaths of his companion, indicating that Aragorn was well and truly asleep. But he himself could not find the same tranquility so easily. His mind was too preoccupied.

To his great exasperation, his thoughts kept drifting back to the maiden at the inn. Aragorn's friend. He had known from the beginning, of course, that they were headed towards Bree with the intention of gaining another companion on their quest. He had been told it was an old friend of Aragorn's they were seeking out, and he had soon learned that this friend was a _she_ (which he had found rather surprising at the time), but beyond that, his comrade had been rather cryptic about his acquaintance. With a bemused smirk, Aragorn had only said: "You'll see, my friend. You'll see."

Haldir was not overly fond of being kept out of the loop in any circumstances, but again, he trusted Aragorn with his life, and if his friend did not want to disclose anything further, he must have had his reasons, he'd decided. Now he realised that perhaps Aragorn's _reason_ was that it was not his place to tell. He had noted from the moment he first laid eyes upon the maiden, and she laid eyes upon him, that she had been instantly wary of him. Indeed, it was rather obvious that she had spent the whole night anxiously avoiding their part of the room to the best of her abilities, and he doubted very much that it was Aragorn she was wary of. She seemed quite comfortable with him. No, it was obviously _Haldir_ she feared.

The rest of the night, he had spent actively wondering _why,_ feeling somewhat affronted despite himself. Why should she be fearful of him, when she was so obviously unbothered by every crude and impudent man that had visited the inn that evening, making all manners of discourteous advances towards her. Had he not shown every curtesy? Then again, she was no doubt very much used to the behaviour of the men who frequented the tavern. His presence at the inn had obviously taken her by surprise. Very rarely did elves journey to the west of _Ennorath_ where Bree lay welcoming along the end of the East Road. And if they did, they were most likely passing through to the Grey Havens to journey west across The Great Sea. Perhaps it was the sudden appearance of an Elf that had the maiden so unsettled.

But why? Haldir could not shake the questions that kept probing his mind relentlessly.

He had soon entertained the idea that she might very well _be_ one of his own kin. She was certainly lovely enough, he grudgingly admitted to himself. Her pale, unblemished skin, her tall, slender frame, along with the long, golden tresses of her hair, were all distinctly _elven_ features _._ But none of that was evidence enough to determine the matter. She could still pass as a maiden of Men. Try as he had all night, he had not been able to catch sight of her ears. They had been safely hidden away under her braided hair, to his great annoyance. Seeing them would have been the number one tell-tale sign of her kin.

However, he had been pleasantly surprised when she had slipped up herself on using the Sindarin name for The Grey Wizard. _Mithrandir._ She had stopped abruptly then, obviously realising her mistake, and turned her wide eyes upon him. Even after Aragorn's attempt to consolidate her fears, she had still seemed reluctant to…

 _To what, exactly?_

Haldir sighed, moving restlessly to try to find a more comfortable position on the ground. He was growing increasingly frustrated. Frustrated that he could not find sleep. Frustrated that he was so caught up in this foreign maiden he had only just met. Frustrated that he did not have all the information to make sense of her, so he could be done with her and shove her to the back of his mind where she belonged.

He shifted again. On that particular night, the ground which he had slept upon countless nights before in his eternal lifetime, seemed hard and unforgiving. And although he did not necessarily _need_ the sleep, as elves could function several days without it, he still longed for the blissful oblivion it brought after a long day of travelling and sitting in that infernal, noisy place they called an inn.

He let out a long breath of aggravation and slumped back to his original position. It was of no use. He would not find sleep, his mind was to preoccupied and his body was too restless. Swiftly, he moved the blanket off his body and got to his feet. Grabbing his sword and sheath, safely securing it to his belt, he glanced over at his companion to make sure he was still sound asleep, then he silently made his way out of the clearing and soon found himself back on the path. He figured he might as well exert some of that itchy energy his body was stacked up with.

Soon his thoughts drifted back to the conundrum he had grappled with all night. What exactly was this maiden's fear? To give away her race? He thought about it for a moment. However strange it was for an _elleth_ to be dwelling amongst Men, it certainly was not unheard of. And it was definitely not a crime. Therefore, Haldir could not understand why she was so set upon hiding her race from him. Her skittish behaviour was rather drastic for such a small matter, he thought.

 _Perhaps not just her race then…_

Perhaps her identity? Had she committed some unspeakable crime that would make her an outlaw in the eyes of _The Eldar_? He scanned his memories, searching for any story, song or legend that might explain this _elleth_ 's fear of discovery, but he came up empty handed. Nothing about her rang a bell anywhere. Truth be told, he had very little information to go on. He only knew the name Aragorn had used for her. _Neora._ Probably not her given name. She was no doubt known by another name amongst their kin, so in the end, her name would tell him nothing new.

However, he had made another discovery during the conversation she had with Aragorn by their table. About the last time she had met The Grey Wizard. What was it she had said?

" _Last I saw Gandalf the Grey, we parted ways at Imladris after… after Erebor."_

 _Erebor._ The name echoed in Haldir's mind. He was acquainted with The Lonely Mountain, of course, having travelled that part of the world a couple of times in his lifetime. He had never ventured inside the mountain though. There was little lost love between the elves and the dwarves, and he doubted very much that he should have been welcomed there.

Erebor had always been a domain of the dwarves, for there they had found mineral wealth and riches already in the Years of the Trees. But it was not until the second millennium of the Third Age that it became a stronghold for the Dwarven people, and the ancestral home of The King under the Mountain, Thráin the Old. During his reign, the Dwarves became a grossly rich people, accumulating vast riches of gold and treasure, as was in the Dwarven nature to covet. Then, tragedy had struck as the kingdom had been attacked by the dragon Smaug, and the Dwarves were forced to flee from their home.

He had heard tales of Gandalf the Grey setting the surviving heir to the throne, Thorin Oakenshield, upon a quest to reclaim their homeland. The news had been met with mixed emotions amongst the elves, for it was never a wise course to rouse and challenge a sleeping dragon. Especially not one as powerful and fearsome as Smaug. In the end, the Dwarves had been victorious in their aim to reclaim their homeland, but the cost had been great indeed. Not just to the Dwarves, but for Elves and Men too.

Haldir shook his head sadly, feeling grim by the thought. It was no wonder such a sorrowful look had passed across the maiden's face at the memory. If she had indeed been there, as he could only deduce, it would have been a grievous strain upon her immortal heart, of that he had no doubt. Nothing was as wretched and agonising to the Elves as that of such devastating and needless losses. The _Galadhrim_ had not been involved in the conflict, therefore he had not participated himself. It was the Wood-Elves of _Eryn Galen_ under the command of King Thranduil who had marched upon Erebor and subsequently been caught up in the battle of the five armies.

He could not help but wonder _why_ Neora had been a part of the Quest for Erebor. Given the lack of camaraderie between the Elves and the Dwarves, it was strange that she should have volunteered to assist on such a quest. And even stranger indeed that the Dwarves had accepted it. He knew that Thorin Oakenshield was ferociously known for his dislike of the Elves, and would not readily accept any aid from _The Eldar_. Obviously, she had been encouraged by Gandalf the Grey to join in the quest, that much he had gathered from the conversation, but he still did not understand what incentive had made her accept.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he came to an abrupt stop upon the path. Truly, the whole _elleth_ was an enigma he had trouble making sense of, and it was rather maddening. He had no idea why he cared so much. After a long life with many odd experiences, he was not used to _not knowing._ It was a rare occurrence indeed for such a puzzle to come along his way, and he supposed that was the appeal. It was refreshing. Something for his mind to ponder upon, other than the mundane of his every day life in Caras Galadhon.

He shook his head again to clear his thoughts. If the maiden agreed to join them on their quest, there would be ample time to sate his curiosity and find the answers he sought. If not, she would soon be forgotten as himself and Aragorn set out on their journey to locate Gollum and find the truth of this ring.

No sooner had he vowed to put this thoughts to a rest, when he came to an abrupt stop upon the path. The forest around him had gone eerily quiet, even more than what was strictly normal at night. His senses were on high alert as he felt that ominous sensation that something dark was present. He stiffened, reaching for his sword. Then, the wind shifted, bringing a new scent upon the breeze that had him unsheathing his sword in no time, ready to fight. It was a smell he had not expected to come across in Bree, but the foul and rotten stench filling the air was unmistakable.

 _Orcs._


End file.
